


DL 5

by bonebo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, SEP-era, Vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10030565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: "I don't want to feel like this tomorrow" R76





	

Some days are worse than others--and when he finally makes it back to his and Gabriel’s room after his own round of injections, with his knees shaking and cold sweat beaded along his brow, Jack knows that today is a bad day.

The door opens and he’s met with darkness. By now it’s a fairly common discovery, given how Gabriel’s reactions tend to give him splitting headaches and make him painfully sensitive to light; but Jack still can’t see to get to his own bed, and so it’s with a soft call of, “I’m turning on the light, Gabe,” that he flips the switch by the door.

The sight that greets him makes his heart hurt--there’s a trail of wet and grey leading from Gabriel’s bed toward the small adjoined bathroom, and when Jack peers in the open door he finds Gabriel himself, on his knees and clinging to the toilet like a lifeline. Jack cautiously comes forward--avoids stepping in the vomit, resigns himself to cleaning it up later--and leans against the doorframe with a quiet sigh. “Bad round, big guy?”

“I-I can’t--” Gabriel’s voice is hoarse, and he cuts off with another sickening retch; when he sits up, strings of bile hang from his lips, his teeth. His cheeks are streaked with tears, and that is alarming enough to have Jack straighten, rush over to the other man’s side. “Can’t--a-anymore--”

“Gabe...” Jack drops to his knees on the cold tile floor, lays an arm across Gabriel’s shoulders--and has to jerk it away as Gabriel bends over the toilet again, jaws parting for another heave. This time when he finishes, Gabriel slumps backward, and it takes Jack reaching out quickly to catch him to keep Gabriel’s head from bouncing off the floor.

He looks down into those hazy, blown brown eyes, and strokes a few sweaty locks of hair out of Gabriel’s face; agonizes in how clammy Gabriel’s skin is against his fingertips. “Gabe...hey. Talk to me, buddy. Tell me how to help.”

Gabriel just shakes his head--chokes on a mouthful of bile and lingering vomit, struggles to sit up enough to spit it into the toilet. When he’s done he slumps against Jack, his eyes falling half-closed like he’s too exhausted to keep them open.

Jack sighs sadly at the display; Gabriel usually is so strong, the rock that the rest of the recruits look to for strength. To see him made so weak by the injections is chilling. “Gabe...c’mon, buddy. Let’s get you back to bed, get you some rest. Things’ll look better tomorrow.”

“Don’t…” Gabriel coughs as Jack hauls him up, one arm around Gabriel’s waist and the other holding his wrist, keeping him steady as Jack all but carries him back toward their bunks. “Don’t wanna...feel like this….tomorrow…”

“I know, big guy.” Jack sighs again, swallowing the rising lump in his throat and adjusting his stance as Gabriel’s knees wobble. “You’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay. We’re gonna get through this, one day at a time.”


End file.
